


Almosts and Maybes

by Styx_in_the_mud



Series: Christmas Countdown 2015 [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Family, Memories, Snow, act two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 16:33:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5463461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Styx_in_the_mud/pseuds/Styx_in_the_mud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Snowflakes settled in her short, dark hair and clung desperately to her eyelashes. Something about her just seemed unreal, and Fenris wanted to reach out and touch her, to hold her. He resisted.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almosts and Maybes

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my Christmas Countdown 2015, a series of fics from different fandoms centering around different pairings. Prompt: Snow. Okay so this is the first time I’m writing DA outside the AU, and I’ve decided to go a slightly angstier route because Fenris turns brooding into an art form.

Fenris' life, up until now, could be plotted in straight line. Granted, it was a smudgy line, drawn in blood, but at least there was some semblance of order to it. Then came Hawke.

Hawke was a cyclone, a thunderstorm. She was mercurial as the moon, as deadly as one of her daggers, yet constantly bubbling with mirth. When Hawke entered his life, his straight line was suddenly punctuated by mountains and valleys. He had had no intention of becoming so involved, but Hawke had a way of pulling people in. Anyone could see it if they looked close enough. It was evident in the way Anders clung on to every word out of her mouth, or the fond curve of Aveline's mouth when she spoke of her, or Isabella's exaggerated flirting. With Fenris, however it was something more, like Hawke's magnetic personality tripled in effectiveness whenever he was around. She had succeeded in pulling him in, maybe too close.

The first few weeks after they slept together ( _after he left_ ) were beyond awkward. He tried to ignore the hurt in her eyes whenever she looked his way, or the forced tone of their usual banter. He avoided the inquisitive eyes and questions of his friends with ease, and after a while he became quite good at it, _they_ became good at it. They seemed, to outsiders, to return to their old relationship, but the anxious, electric energy of "almost" or "might have been" still stretched painfully between them.

They were out on a quest now, climbing to a cave on the Sundermount. The snow on the mountains made the already chilly winter air nearly unbearable, and he rubbed his arms in an effort to warm them. He wished he'd agreed to wear something warmer, and studiously avoided Aveline's "I told you so" look. Looking for a distraction from the chill seeping through him, his eyes wandered, naturally, to Hawke. Her armor, though warm, did little to protect her face from the biting winds, and her normally brown cheeks were tinted red. Snowflakes settled in her short, dark hair and clung desperately to her eyelashes. Something about her just seemed unreal, and Fenris wanted to reach out and touch her, to hold her. He resisted.

They found the cave before the snow fall became a snow storm, which was rather merciful for them. Aveline had volunteered to scout ahead, and after a small debate, it was agreed that she'd take Merrill with her. Smaller groups attracted less attention. Fenris and Hawke were left sitting by the caves entrance, watching the flurry outside.

"I used to love the snow." said Hawke quietly. Fenris started, and then moved cautiously to sit next to her. He stayed silent, letting her continue in her own time.

"We used to wait for it to snow when we were younger, just so we could go out and play. Carver used to make snow forts." she snorted "Bethany like making snowmen, and I... well I was always doing something different. Inevitably, Carver would fling some snow at me, or I'd fling some at him and we'd have an all-out snowball war with poor Bethany caught in the middle. She'd always side with whomever got hit first." She smiled sadly at the memory. “We stopped one day, when we’d decided we were too big for such childish games. I wonder, if we had known what would happen… about Father, and Carver, and Beth… maybe….” She left the rest unsaid. Maybe they would have continued their games, trying to prolong their childhood. Maybe they would have stopped them earlier, growing up much faster than they already were (and with two apostates in the family, one couldn’t grow up fast enough). Maybe nothing would change at all.

Fenris remained seated, unsure of what to do, before slowly inching towards her, until there was only a centimeter of space between them, possibly less. It was as close as he dared to get. They didn't touch. They sat like that, watching the snowflakes whirl in the wind outside, and when Aveline and Merrill returned, they stood, silently agreeing not to speak of it. As they prepared to enter the depths of the cave, Hawke's eyes met his, and her lips quirked upwards into a small, secret smile. Fenris returned it, for the first time in a year feeling a spark of hope warming his bones.


End file.
